


Driftwood Cabins and Purple Skies

by alexrawrmonster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 21:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16689193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexrawrmonster/pseuds/alexrawrmonster
Summary: Sam and Cas say goodbye to Dean for the very last time.





	Driftwood Cabins and Purple Skies

Sometime, in the not so distant future, blocking out a cacophony of the dying, and the cries of the damned, surrounded by eerie antiseptic creatures masquerading as protectors, a dark haired man sat in isolation. Here for the paycheck they bustled past, clipboards with hastily scribbled notes in hand. Uncaring, quickly on to the next room, the next person, the next problem to be solved. Wringing his hands, the aforementioned man slouched forward, biting at his cuticles as shivers rolled through his spine with each person strolling by. Each new doctor bringing the promise of more information, and with every new piece of information his eyes sunk further into his skull, marred with so much baggage he was going to have to get it checked - this was no carrion. Not yet anyway. Soon though, odds were soon. That much he had gathered through the wispy glances and broken stares the attending doctors and nurses gave him.

Wires of varying sizes and colors connected all over his body, intubation, ventilation, clinical words thrown around supposedly for his benefit only made him feel worse. Aspiration pneumonia had onset - hell he was the one who caught the fever not the doctors, and that was the last information he had received. All he could do was watch his brother, trapped within his own mind, and hold his hand, and tell him everything was going to be okay. He didn't believe that, not for a second, but he promised no more shenanigans a long time ago and he wasn't going to go back on that now. Slowly rubbing his fingers back and forth across his brother's cold hand a new figure stepped into view.

“Hey, Cas.” He whispered,

“Sam,” he said, sitting down next to the lanky man, “you look thin, have you been eating?”

“No,” he said truthfully, “why are you here?” 

“I brought you a gift.” He said quietly. 

“We agreed, no magic cures” Castiel cut him off.

“That's not what this is. I understand you are frustrated with me, I would not go against your wishes in such a capacity.” 

“I'm not frustrated, Cas, I just wish you could do something about this.” His grace had run thin years ago, only the tiniest wisps remained, only enough to stop the angel from dying, powering the reactor not allowing the cooling system to fail. He could barely enter Heaven anymore.

“As do I,” his voice cracked, a side effect of lost grace, emotion. He grabbed Dean's other hand, stroking it gently, using what little grace he had to warm it. Cas reached into his trench coat pocket and pulled out a thermos,

“Your gift is lunch?” He asked quizzically, the angel had done stranger things during their time together,

“No, Sam,” he said, dropping Dean's hand to unscrew the lid, showing Sam the liquid inside.

“African dream root brew.” He whispered, eyes going wide. 

“It's not much, but we can say goodbye.” he responded, smiling wanly. Sam stood, walking over to Cas and encapsulating him in an enormous hug as tears slid down his face. His breathing hitched

“Thank you, thank you” he sputtered between the tears, 

“We don't have much time,” he said, looking at Dean, “we need to do this now.” He said, Sam nodded into his shoulder, wiping his sodden cheeks with the back side of his hand. The boys left Mercy General, finding their way back to the bunker. 

Fulfilling the DNA requirement with locks of his hair, and adding prescription strength sleeping pills Castiel and Sam clinked glasses, downing the daunting cocktail. The boys found their way to Dean's bedroom and lay down on the bed side by side. It didn't feel strange as it would normally, it felt right. 

“Did you know he made me a mixtape? Years ago. I listened to it so many times trying to understand what he meant to tell me. I never did come up with a concrete answer.”  
“He gave you a mixtape Cas, we grew up in the mixtape generation, he was trying to tell you he loved you, he just, couldn't.” Sam said, looking his blue eyed friend over. 

“I see.”

“When we were young, he liked this girl, Willow, he made this mixtape for her, he spent hours pouring over it, making sure it was perfect, he wrapped it with this little red bow he had me tie for him, when Willow rejected him he smashed it, is like he put his whole heart in this tiny box, and it was destroyed.”

“I miss him.”

“Me too, Cas.”

“Tell me more,” he whispered.

“When we were 13 and 17 I got really sick, our fake insurance had run out, and somehow he made enough money to cover the minimum payment on the hospital bill overnight. He said he found it, but I know that's not true, I could smell the cologne on his jacket and saw the hickies on his neck, saw the way he walked in as of he was in pain. I know what he did for me. I know what I meant to him. I never got to repay him for that, he wouldn't allow it.” 

“Dean put you first, always.” Castiel mused quietly, 

“Yeah, he always did.”

“When Dean and I were in purgatory, he prayed to me every single night.” Cas whispered, “he used to tell me about his day, he'd tell me where he was, how to find him, he'd try to hide the pain but such things become evident in prayer even if they aren't on the surface level. Waiting for that prayer every night, it kept me going, and when he was late, the fear I felt, it was unrivaled.”  
Sam nodded along, blinking slowly, the sleeping pills were working into his bloodstream.

“When we were kids he's always pretend things were better than they were, it doesn't surprise me he tried the same with how he felt in purgatory. I feel bad that we left him.” Sam added quietly, this was the first time he'd left the hospital since Dean had been admitted,  
“We didn't leave him, we're on our way to him.” Cas said, running his hand along Sam's arm.

“Thanks Cas,” his voice broke. “I miss him so much already and he isn't even gone.” He choked out, “what am I gonna do?”

“Well, you and I, are going to live our lives.” He said, looking at Sam with a sloppy mixture of pity and pain, “we'll save lives, we'll guide the other hunters, we'll have pie night once a month, and we'll watch bad movies and wear cowboy hats, we'll move on, together. It's going to be painful, it's going to hurt so much, but we're going to live, and we're going to do it in his honor.” Cas spoke, his gravely monotone, he ran his hand gently through Sam's hair, calming him down. 

“You're like a brother to me,” Cas said quietly, 

“I'll be here for you as much as I can be.”

“Did Dean ever tell you?” Sam asked quietly, Cas squinted, “he, he wanted you, he wanted to be there for you and be there with you, he had dreamt up this, this life with you, he felt he could never, could never deserve you, could never have you, that it would go wrong, he also had trouble - he never so much as said the word 'bisexual’ to me, but he came up to me one day and just said 'I love him Sammy’ and I just knew. That's all he had to say. He was in love with you, he would've died for you, but he wouldn't risk your friendship. He wouldn't take the leap.” Cas’ eyes were red, biting his lower lip gently he nodded subtly. His jaw began to quiver,

“Goodnight Sam.” He whispered, not letting the tears overtake him until the lights were off.  
“Goodnight Cas.” He responded, broken hearts and broken minds pulled to rest under the influence of chemicals.

Dream walking felt like waking up in another realm, not like dreaming. They awoke in a dream realm, purple hues washed the grassy Earth, fields of dead brown wild grass stretched as far as the eye could see, the sky was dark and filled with stars, the moon shone red. Sam arrived first, finding the scene ultimately unsettling, Cas arrived shortly after.

“I don't see Dean.” Cas said, scanning the area,

“I'm guessing he's in there.” Sam said, pointing to a rickety cabin on the shore of what looked to be an ocean. Cas nodded and they began walking towards the cabin in the distance. The cabin was haphazard, made of greying driftwood stacked into a makeshift home, the boys walked around finding instead of a door a gaping hole inside the walls. Sam walked in first, Dean was on the sandy ground, curled into a tiny ball and shivering mercilessly,

“S-sammy?” He croaked, a hoarseness filled his voice,

“Hey Dean,” Sam's mouth raised pulled by strings melancholy muscle into a would be smile, “I missed you.”

“Are you cold? It’s s-so c-cold.” He said looking his younger brother over, coughing into his arm

“I'm okay Dean” he whispered, even on his deathbed trying to take care of Sam. Cas entered the room.

“Cas?” Dean croaked with a smile, “now it's a real party.” Cas smiled wanly at the comment, 

“W-what?” Dean asked quietly, the looks on their faces silencing him. 

“Nothing Dean,” Sam said with a watery smile, sitting next to his brother and wrapping his arms around him. “Even here you have a fever.” He laughed, “sorry you can't escape that.”

“I what?”

“Aspiration pneumonia,” Sam said weakly, 

“Sammy I don't have-”

“Maybe this isn't the best time.” Cas said quietly, the boys looked at him,

“Wouldn't want to do anything to jarring.” Cas said, “might cause undue stress” Cas stressed the words, looking directly at Sam,

“Right, sorry.” He said, unwilling to let go of his toasty brother. Another wet hacking cough found its way out of Dean, Sam grimaced. 

“I just wanted to spend some time with my big brother, that's all.” He said, smiling as quiet tears rolled down his cheeks. Cas sat on the other side of Dean, grabbing his hand and laying his head on Dean's shaking shoulder.

“Guys, what's going on?”

“Nothing.” They responded in melancholic harmony. “We just wanted to spend some time with you.” Sam said,

“Dean, don't think this too forward.” Cas said quietly, raising up and kissing his cheek.

“Not at all, Cas.” He said quietly, stifling a cough. He lay his head back down.

“It's been this weird purple the whole time I've been here, I b-built this shack when it got cold, n-now that I'll I'm here it's getting darker and darker, like the moonlight is going out.” he said quietly, Sam's jaw quivered, unable to speak he just nodded. 

“Guys. What's going on.” 

“We're losing you.” Sam broke, finding glass cutting shards in his throat, or at least that's what holding back the tears felt like, “you're in a coma, and have aspiration pneumonia, and you're dying, your vitals have been deteriorating over the last few days, we're down to maybe days, more likely hours, Cas got us some African dream root so-”

“You're here to say goodbye?” Sam nodded weakly, 

“It probably got cold here when you started running a fever a few days ago.”

“I love you Sammy,”

“I love you too Dean,”

“Cas,” he said quietly looking at the man on his other shoulder, Cas looked up at him, eyes closed Dean leaned in, their lips met, Dean's lips enveloping Cas’ bottom lip as he carefully kissed him, he pulled back a little, holding Cas’ face so he could look at it gently in his palm, “I love you Cas,”

“I love you too, Dean.” He whispered, 

“I'm sorry we didn't do that for real.” He whispered,

“This was for real. It was for me.” Cas responded, laying his forehead on Dean's neck. 

“Guys, it's getting so cold.” The two boys held him tighter as he shook, Cas sneaking little kisses on his cheek, Sam rubbing his arm gently. They spent hours sitting there, in the tiny shack, huddled together, a group of three one last time.

They awoke to the ringing of a phone, the hospital.

“Mr. Winchester? We are sorry to inform you that Dean has passed away. We are so sorry for your loss. We will need you to come in to file the proper paperwork -”  
“Goodbye Dean,” Sam whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you like? What didn't you like? What would you change? 
> 
> Let me know!


End file.
